


The Bottle

by MissILikeTooManyFandoms



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 21:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4073794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissILikeTooManyFandoms/pseuds/MissILikeTooManyFandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla's epic quest for the perfect champagne for her and Laura's doomed date. </p><p>A sort of #ThrowbackThursday fic and inspired by some yelling in my Tumblr inbox.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bottle

As soon as Laura’s breathing evened out, Carmilla having had her fill of watching her roommate, half in amusement and half in awe, the vampire’s mind was whirring. She finally had a date with Laura, or at least what she hoped would become a date. Carmilla allowed herself a small smile as she relaxed on her bed, hand absently reaching for the nearest book. Her mother’s minions had hopefully been warded off by the charm and she would have Laura all to herself. Well, sort of. She imagined that the ginger gang the smaller girl ran with would be there and of course the insufferable puppy. She could not fathom how Will put up with him but then again, Will was just as irritating and childish as the rest of the Zetas he ran with, the perfect “cover.” Her small smile had faded the longer Carmilla thought of the party.

There was always the chance that her mother would choose to strike, unleashing Will upon the partygoers. Every vaguely party-like event had already been targeted so far and the Zetas and their friends were easy targets. Her book was open before her but Carmilla did not take in a word as she weighed her options. She could skip the party but she had no desire to snub Laura, not when it seemed that the other girl was finally warming up to her advances. Her desire to avoid the Zetas however was equal to wanting to keep Laura as company the following evening. Her eyes flitted over the form across the room. She could not bear to endanger her. As the vampire’s eyes began to droop, a light smile found its way back on to her face, a plan rapidly forming, one she would recall with ease upon waking.

Carmilla awoke to a blaring alarm, her ears ringing and her temper flaring as she searched for the source of the offending ear-splitting tone. Brown eyes alighted upon the alarm clock across the room. She debated internally for a moment on the pros and cons of shattering Laura’s clock with her boot but with a sigh, dragged herself out of bed and over to the other side of the room, slamming the buttons on the clock with only a tad more force than necessary. Despite the rude awakening, Carmilla quickly found herself grateful for the obnoxious device and its owner. The green numbers flashed _5:45_. She had just enough time to prepare for her plan.

She only allowed herself a few moments to wonder where Laura was, not used to waking up alone, before digging through her closet. She had an outfit planned the second she accepted her roommate’s offer. After a quick shower and painstakingly curling her hair (she had winced a bit upon taking out what had to have been Betty’s curling iron) the vampire was dressed. With some cash tucked into her corset, she marched out of the dorm.

Silas Likör was not the classiest nor Carmilla’s first choice of store, but it was the closest to campus and geared at international students, thus having the widest variety. Carmilla blew through the doors, suddenly anxious that she would be late for her sort-of-date. She scanned the aisles, bypassing the cases of beer and various bottles of cheap wine. When she finally spotted a champagne bottle, she had been in the store for nearly five minutes, long enough to set her teeth on edge. She inspected the levels in turn, already disgruntled to find that only three shelves held a handful of varieties. After a second glance over the selection, the vampire groaned. The right drink was essential to her plans for the evening and of course the universe was plotting against her.

“Dammit.” She kicked the shelf for good measure, rattling the bottles.

Luckily for her but unluckily for him, a worker passed by just as the bottles stopped shaking. She glared at him but beckoned him over, one black boot tapping on the dirty tile.

“You, I need your help.”

“Uh…yes?”

“Is this all the champagne you have?”

“I think so?”

“You think so? It’s a yes or no question.” The boy quailed beneath the vampire’s harsh gaze.

“Uh…well…yes.”

“Really?”

“I can order you something if you’d like.”

“I need it today. In fact, I needed it ten minutes ago.”

“Sorry, uh…I have coupons?” A red coupon book appeared, the deathly pale employee handling it smiling in what was probably supposed to be an encouraging manner. It just made Carmilla want to punch it off of him.

“What about the back room?”

“What?” Carmilla rolled her eyes, sighing. She had to remind herself why it was a bad idea to murder the useless employee.

“I know special spirits are kept in stock for the dean and the governors.” While the boy sputtered and struggled to formulate a response, Carmilla pushed past him, making her way to the back of the store. She ignored the “Employees Only” sign on a heavy metal door, entering rows upon rows of inventoried and yet to be stocked alcohol. She made her way through the stacks, her brow furrowing in confusion the farther she went. Everything was wrong. After another circuit around the room, the vampire groaned, grumbling under her breath, and left the room, throwing a few dollars at the still stunned employee as she passed him. Once out of sight of any passing people, the vampire vanished into a cloud of smoke, reappearing in a dark cellar.

She was surrounded by racks of wine and bottles full of blood. Carmilla allowed herself a brief moment of congratulations, surprised that she could actually teleport into the room but more surprised that she was right about the location of her mother’s personal collection. She had found what she thought was the entrance just a few weeks prior, when she had been kicking around upstairs in the dean’s mansion, following a shockingly undiscovered secret passage. She made her way through the rows carefully, her ears trained on the floors above her. She was in the back, about ready to scream and knock a few shelves over in frustration, when she finally spotted a lone bottle of champagne high on the rack.

“Typical.” She glared at the bottle for a moment as if willing it to come down before sighing and nimbly scaling the rack and swiping the bottle. She hung on the shelves, feet locked into empty slots as she wiped the dust from the aged bottle. She groaned upon seeing the label, having expected at least a bottle from the nineteenth century. “Can’t even bother to keep the good stuff around.” She was content, however, to have found at least a somewhat more than decent bottle. Though a little young for her tastes, the champagne in her hand was light-years ahead of the swill the store had been selling and she did not have to spend a dime on the bottle in hand. Just as she was about to disappear yet again, an idea struck the vampire, forcing her to weave her way back through the racks. Near a set of practically ancient tables and chairs, she found a rack of wine glasses. She plucked two from their holders, inspected them, even flicking them for good measure, enjoying the sound that ricocheted off the walls, before finally vanishing into yet another cloud of smoke.

It was a bit risky, appearing right in the middle of the third floor hallway, but Carmilla encountered no one, giving her time to straighten her shoulders and school her features before breezing into the room she shared with Laura.

It was only on the third night of her confinement that she remembered the vintage she had gone to so much trouble to obtain. The bottle still sat on Laura’s desk, uncorked and full. The champagne flutes, however, were nowhere to be seen. _She and the Amazon probably drank them in celebration of my capture._ The bitter thought only strengthened her resolve not to speak.

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty lame, but I couldn't help myself.


End file.
